Grandma's Pasta Sauce
My grandma's special pasta sauce -- and how to
confound an ignorant Federal Agent.
Most folks who’ve bumped into my comments, essays and opinions are aware of the Celtic core in my appreciation of nature, history, the human commitment to democracy and freedom. One of these days, I’ll explain the part about democracy and freedom [and religion]. Maybe I’ll even loosen up a historic vow of silence and tell folks what that has to do with Druids.
Meanwhile, that’s only half of where my family came from. The other half is Italian. And as I always say, partly in jest, fortunately, that half taught me to cook.
In a workingclass family in a factory town, the mid-day meal on Sunday, very often was pasta. That, too, was the day you had some protein. My mom, Dorothy Marie Trotta, made a terrific pasta sauce with meatballs. As you would expect. But, summertimes, when school was out, my mom and my sister and I spent a couple of months on my grandparents little farm -- and Grandma did the cooking.
My Italian grandmother’s name was always a family joke. One that even got me a laugh at the expense of a predictably ignorant FBI agent. The dull bastard tried to impress me with how much he knew about my background and challenged me about my grandmother’s name -- which was Clara Fritz. He said, “Your mother is Italian and German -- Trotta and Fritz!” Like most Americans, he knew little history. He was ignorant of all the nationalities gathered by force of arms into the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
The little village in the Tirol of Italy where my grandmother was born had been the “property” of that empire for decades. Residents were forced to change to Germanic surnames. No matter, they were always Italians. After World War 1, they returned to Italian citizenship. If you understand that, you might begin to understand some of the contempt held for the Imperial West in Asia, Africa and the Middle East. Generation after generation suffered through their national identities transformed, diminished and even created from political decisions and greed on another continent.
Yes, I’m getting to the recipe.
The physical bits of preparing each ingredient are as important as their quality. Sooner or later, if you love cooking and eating, you begin to understand differences in texture.
Grandma used canned tomatoes excepting those summer weeks when her garden tomatoes were at their peak. Good canned tomatoes are the base for any decent red sauce. Traditionalists use only those grown from San Marzano seed. Our relatives back in Italy sent over fresh seed, every winter. But, I’m as happy with Muir Glen or [lately] Trader Joe’s. I use their “whole tomatoes, peeled, in tomato juice and basil, no salt added”.
The protein simmered in the sauce is chicken and sausage. Albuquerque folks can get the only decent traditional Italian sausage in the state. John, over at Tully’s, makes the only authentic product in the state. You can even get the only state-certified nitrate and nitrite-free Italian sausage in the state at his family deli. I usually bring a cooler with me and stock up on the Hot -- available frozen -- when I’m forced to go to Albuquerque.
Here in Santa Fe, Trader Joe has a pretty good offering [from California], only available in Sweet. Since there is no shortage of any kind of chile in New Mexico, that ain’t exactly a problem. And that’s it for decent Italian sausage in New Mexico!
Chicken legs I use are from field-run chickens, natural or organic, from Whole Foods.
I use a large Creuset enameled pot to construct the sauce. Heavy is useful to prevent hot spots which might burn a sauce. Non-reactive, enameled or otherwise, is a necessity. I start by browning a couple of chicken legs in just a bit of butter and olive oil. That means thoroughly browned. A significant difference between most home cooks and restaurant-level cooking.
When they’re browned, I drain and wipe the pot, start with fresh oil and butter to brown 3-5 sausages, depending on size. After they’re done, I remove them and brown a whole sliced onion. While the onion is browning, I crush the tomatoes. I do this by hand into a stainless steel bowl. Again, non-reactive is the requirement. I crush them down into the smallest chunks I can -- by hand.
Just before the onions are through browning, I toss in a sprig of rosemary, crushed chiles [if needed], several coarsely chopped cloves of garlic, a teaspoon of hand-rubbed dried oregano. Toss everything in the hot mixture of fats and browned onions to get the flavors moving out of the seasoning. Pour in the tomatoes and add a bit of fresh ground black pepper and sea salt [I’m a Maldon fan]. Be certain to loosen up the browned bits of everything from the bottom of the pot with a wood spoon. Bring it up to a simmer, then, turn the heat low enough to barely maintain that simmer.
Time is important, Keeping the surface of the sauce in touch with the air is important. It’s more useful to add a little hot water if the sauce gets too thick -- than to cover it to retain water. Covered, the flavors will change while cooking. At most, I’ll put a lid part way over the top. Pay attention to how quickly the chicken legs are cooking. I start checking them after 45 minutes and remove them from the sauce when obviously well done. I like to simmer the sauce at least an hour-and-a-half to get the best from the sausage.
When it’s done, put the chicken back in and set the sauce aside to rest for 10-15 minutes. Your taste buds don’t really work especially well with really hot foods. I eat “like an Arab” -- which means meals are rarely served more than 10 degrees above or below room temperature.
While the sauce is still quite warm, perhaps 5 minutes before serving with your favorite pasta, stir in a handful of fresh oregano or marjoram leaves. Not too much. You want them to be part of the flavor without becoming distinct and separate from the whole. Cut up the chicken legs and sausage into appropriate portions -- and enjoy with your favorite pasta.
Of course, there always are variations. I’ll leave you up to creating your own.
Posted: Sun - July 31, 2005 at 12:19 PM